Page 24 of Pretty Spiteful

Not that I can blame him, exactly. Hell, I was convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me when I saw her standing in my kitchen that first night. She was the very last person I would have expected to walk through that door. I was so shocked that I didn’t even know what to feel at first.

But then this low simmering anger started brewing. Nothing like Wilder’s raging inferno that had him catapulting across the room, but a bubbling heat that was both reminiscent of the way I used to feel around her—that grating anger where she both annoyed and intrigued me—and felt entirely new.

I was angry on Wilder’s behalf. Angry that she just left him without so much as a goodbye. Angry that she left me to pick up the fractured pieces of his heart. A heartbroken Wilder is no fucking joke. He’s barely tolerable on a good day, let alone when he’s pissed at the world and searching for an outlet for all his anger and hurt.

But perhaps I was also a little bit angry for myself, too. Angry that she just waltzed into my life after all this time, and all I could fucking think about was how good she looked. How fuckingrightit felt to have her in my space.

Like, what the fuck even is that?!

“He’ll get over it.”

At Hadley’s words, I’m pulled out of my thoughts and dragged back into the dining hall.

A sharp pain in my palm draws my eyes downward to where my fist is clenched so tight that my nails are digging into my skin.

Slowly, I unfurl my fingers, stretching my hand out to ease the tight muscles.

See? Even thinking about Emilia inflicts pain.

Returning my gaze to Hadley, I take in her pinched expression.

“That, or whatever thin thread is tethering him to his sanity, will snap and he will actually kill her,” I grumble in response, earning a deathly glower from my sister.

* * *

“Alpha Sigma Phiis having a party tonight,” Wilder informs me later that evening when he bounces into my room at the frat house. “We’re going.”

Great. Another party where I get to watch Wilder get shitfaced and hit on hot girls. Exactly what I wanted to do with my Thursday night.

“Oh, goodie,” I deadpan, not even bothering to lift my head from the textbook I’m buried in while I try to make a dent in the never-ending list of assignments I have due.

“It’s senior year,” Wilder unhelpfully reminds me. “Pretty soon college will be over, and you’ll regret not taking a more active role.”

I somehow seriously doubt that. I used to think parties were my thing. I loved a good Pac Prep party, but I quickly realized when we started Ridgeway that it was hanging out with my friends and listening to music or laughing at the drunk idiots that I enjoyed more than the actual partying.

Once I discovered that, parties got boring pretty quickly. Besides, once you’ve been to one college party, you’ve essentially been to them all: same shit, different theme.

“We were at a party last night,” I remind him. “And the night before that.”

Basically, every night other than our first night here after Emilia’s reappearance has been spent at some party or other.

“It’s excessive, even for you.”

“So?” Wilder bites out defensively.

“So, maybe you should stop distracting yourself from the problem and go face it.”

“No.”

I inwardly sigh. “I take it you’re staying here this weekend, then?”

“You can assume I’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

All I can do is pin him with areally?expression. If he thinks avoiding Emilia until she leaves is the solution to the problem, then he’s deluded. Not that I know what the solution truly is. Hell, I’ve been avoiding her too. But unlike Wilder, I haven’t been pretending she doesn’t exist. I just don’t know what the fuck to do with her. My response to her presence here threw me for a loop.

Perhaps it would be best if we just avoided her until she left. I mean, Kai is great at his job. He’ll probably find this guy within a week, then Emilia will be back to her regular life, and Wilder’s and mine can continue as normal.

Except…

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